My Friends

Tunneling through the guy.

Dead Space 2: Wipe your feet, I don't want corpse all over my carpet!

I've been drinking. When I drink, I get into loud discussions. Sometimes, they involve video games. One of my favorite, as of late, is that I've been playing a lot of The Witcher and explaining to friends that, whatever situation you can't cut your way out of, you can surely find a way to fuck your way out of it. It's a game that acknowledges that your character is a womanizer and does nothing to hide that fact. Where he gets his leway is in the fact that HE RISKS HIS NECK TO DESTROY THE SHIT FROM YOUR NIGHTMARES. I'm glad Geralt has multiple vices and still gets some monster killing in, just to let the town folk know he's not their to just lay down the bangulations on their daughters.

But I digress. Tonight's whiskey induced conversation was the god damn psychopath Isaac Clark and how we seem to play him as a boot stomping corpse blender (indeed, a man who does his best impression of a blender, with his feet, upon the remains of whatever fleshy figure is left lying around). Most people who begin Dead Space 2 know that, if whatever is lying on the floor has apendages that you can't find on your own body, then it's probably best to blast that son of a bitch into oblivion. Then, comes the gruesome act of harvesting resources. Isaac proceeds to go George Clinton on what may have been a mother of 2 or possibly the dude that operated a space ice cream cart by stomping their corpse into soup.

Now, I like the fact they've added in Isaac's reaction when he is cracking out his jig on a space zombies torso, which is to curse profusely, as I have had the same reaction to intergalactic mutants attackign me from all angles as well. What I don't get is, in what galaxy am I supposed to believe that these things have ingested currency and ammunition, ranging from electrical lances to buzzsaws? You know, if I'm going to play though Event Horizon the Video Game, I want to know the ins and outs of collecting resources from corpses. I don't want the implication that, since they're a monster, they'll eat fucking anything. I mean, I haven't once walked into one of these ghouls chewing on a clipboard or trying to gnaw through a bench. They can pretty well distinguish my spleen from the gun in my hands, and they find my spleen to smell like it'd go good with smashed kidney squeezings as a topping.

I mean, I'm not a sociopath and I do have a problem with stomping in the skull of that used-to-be-pretty-till-she-got-her-face-eaten flight attendant, but if stomping in faces lands me space bucks, then my boot is scheduling a date with their skull. Even more interesting to me than this is the fact that their are these easily accessible little drawers that ALSO contain money and power nodes, which are $10,000 a pop. You don't even need a key to open these things! You just press the future switch on those little drawers and, bing bang boom, your sandwich, coffee and plasma cannon is paid for.

It brings me hope that the future will make billion dollar space stations amazingly easy to loot. Hopefully, my frozen head with steel spider legs won't freak anybody out as they tear open some dudes stomach because I can't make exact change in the Starbucks line.